Pages

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

A Romance That Scandalized the Nation

The
romance between Elizabeth “Baby” Doe and Horace
Tabor was one of the most famous and scandalous affairs in 1880s Colorado. Originally
from Oshkosh, Wisconsin, Elizabeth Bonduel McCourt was
born in 1854. Twenty-four years her senior, Horace Tabor was a silver mining
tycoon in Leadville, Colorado, where they met.

One of
fourteen children, Elizabeth was the daughter of Irish parents. Her father
owned a clothing and custom tailoring store in Oshkosh. The family lived well until
fire destroyed the town in July 1874 and again the following April. The
McCourts lost their business and home as a result.

Young
Elizabeth was a beauty. Five-foot-four, with reddish golden hair, bright blue
eyes and a flashing smile, she gained the nickname “Belle of Oshkosh.” Far from
shy, she enjoyed male attention and dreamed of becoming a famous actress.

Elizabeth married a
handsome young man named Harvey Doe on June 27, 1877. That
same day, they boarded a train for Central City, Colorado,
where Harvey
was to operate the Fourth of July
gold mine for his father. In the rowdy mining town, Elizabeth
soon earned the name “Baby Doe” because of her sweet, innocent looks.

Unfortunately,
Harvey was not
a capable mine manager, and he soon took to drinking. Elizabeth realized he would never fulfill her dreams of riches. Their finances grew precarious and they often quarreled. After
she became pregnant, Harvey
accused her of having an affair and abandoned her. Left to her own devices,
Baby Doe frequented a variety hall called the Shoo-Fly, where she heard about the fabulous silver strikes around
Leadville and silver king, Horace Tabor.

Elizabeth’s baby son was
still-born on July 13, 1879. She briefly tried to make a go of her marriage when Harvey returned, but it
was no use. She visited Leadville and liking the “CloudCity’s” air of prosperity,
she divorced Harvey
and moved to Leadville in the spring of 1880.

By
then, Horace A. W. (“Haw”) Tabor had lived in the Leadville area for a number
of years. Originally from New England, he and his wife Augusta came west in 1859, hoping to strike it rich in Colorado’s first gold rush. Failing at that,
they opened a store Ora. Discoveries of silver in nearby Leadville prompted the
Tabors to move there in 1878. Tabor was soon elected mayor.

Horace’s
generosity led him to grubstake many prospectors. In spring, 1878,
he backed partners August Rische and George Hook, with an agreement that he
would be a one-third partner in any strike they made. The two Germans
staked a claim on Fryer Hill, naming it the Little Pittsburgh. They
sank a shaft and soon struck soft, black silver-lead ore. Tabor went to work with his partners,
leaving Augusta to run the family store. By July the three
partners were raking in $50,000 a month. Before long, Hook and Rische sold
out. Tabor and two new partners consolidated claims and
incorporated for twenty million dollars.

Haw
Tabor’s wealth and fame grew. Elected Lieutenant Governor of Colorado in 1878, he
served in that post until January, 1884. In Leadville, he organized the
town’s first bank, funded the Tabor Hose Company (a fire house, equipment and
crew,) built the Tabor Opera House and other properties. He also invested
heavily in Denver,
where Augusta preferred to live. The two did not get along well. She was
straight-laced, while he enjoyed the high life. He loved to gamble and had an
eye for the ladies.

The
first time Baby Doe met Horace Tabor, she was sitting by herself eating oysters
in the Saddle Rock Café. A performance at the nearby Tabor Opera House ended
and shortly thereafter Horace Tabor walked into the café with his theater
manager, Bill Bush. Both men immediately noticed Baby, and she recognized Tabor. In a little book titled Silver
Queen The Fabulous Story of Baby Doe Tabor by Caroline Bancroft, Tabor
is described: “He was
over six feet tall with large regular features and a drooping mustache. Dark in
coloring, at this time his hair had begun to recede a bit on his forehead and
was turning grey at the temples. Always very well and conspicuously dressed,
his personality seemed to fill any room he stepped into.”

Baby is
quoted as thinking, “That’s the kind of man I could love. A man who loves life
and lives to the full!” Moments later she was invited to join him and Bush at
their table. Tabor soon set Baby Doe up in plush hotel
suites in Leadville and Denver.
Augusta refused
to grant Horace a divorce, so he tried to obtain one on his own in Durango, Colorado,
but it wasn’t legal. Despite this, he secretly married Baby in St.
Louis, Missouri, in
September 1882.

Horace managed to obtain a legal
divorce in January 1883. Within weeks he was appointed by the
Colorado Legislature to serve thirty days as a United States senator, filling a
temporary vacancy. On March 1, 1883, he
legally married Baby Doe at the WillardHotel in Washington, DC.
The room was lavishly decorated and the bride wore a dress and accessories
costing $7,000, a huge sum in those days. President Chester A. Arthur, senators and congressmen attended the wedding. However, their wives
refused to attend due to the couple’s illicit affair.

After the ceremony, the Catholic
priest learned both the bride and groom were divorced and he refused to
sign the marriage license. The marriage caused a national scandal. The
Tabors were banned from society in Washington and in Colorado.
No matter how much money Horace spent and how grand the house he bought for Baby,
no women ever called on her or invited her to their homes.

Despite this shunning, Baby and
Horace were happy, and they ecstatically greeted their first daughter on July
13, 1884. They named her Elizabeth Bonduel Lily. Later, they had a second
daughter, Rosemary Silver Dollar Echo. Meanwhile,
Horace’s political hopes waned. He ran for Colorado governor and was defeated three
times. Then, in 1893, the Sherman Silver Purchase Act was repealed, destroying
his fortune, forcing him to sell off most of his holdings.

Thanks to friends, Horace was named Denver Postmaster in January 1898, a post
he held until his death the following year. Legend says that on his deathbed he told Baby to
hang on to the Matchless Mine. Unfortunately, the once fabulous mine was now worthless. Baby spent her last thirty years in
poverty, living in a one room cabin, the former tool shed of the Matchless, growing
old and “mad” according to some who knew her.

Baby Doe Tabor was found dead in
her cabin on March 7, 1935. She lay stretched out on the floor, looking as if she'd awaited death. Her rise to riches
and tragic end inspired the opera The Ballad of Baby Doe. The libretto was
written by John Latouche, who closely followed the scenario set out in Caroline
Bancroft’s book.Footnote

I will give away a Kindle copy of Dashing Druid, book II in my Texas Druids trilogy to one commenter. Please include your email address if you want to be entered in the drawing.

Colorado silver mining plays an important role in Dashing Druid. In the following excerpt, Tye Devlin is remembering a scary scene.

“Lord save us!” he muttered
as a mighty swing of Tom’s pick sent chunks of ore flying. The rocks struck the
stone floor and clattered down the inclined stope they were working.

“Timbering takes time,” the
burly Cornishman argued, swinging again. “I want to see if we’ve struck
anything first. Come on, put more muscle into it. Our lease runs out in two
weeks. Do you want to uncover a rich vein just in time for the company to
collect all the profits? The greedy devils rake in enough off our broken backs
as it is.”

“I’ll grant ye that, but I’d
rather walk away empty-handed than not a’tall.”

“Not I! I mean to walk away
with my pockets lined with silver. And what’s happened to ye, bucko? Have ye
forgotten the dreams that brought ye west? Where’s the daring lad I once saved
from breaking his neck?” Tom chided as more rocks flew.

“He’s right here, ye big ox.
And he’s seen too many men die in these infernal pits to be taking fool
chances.”

Perched on a ladder, Tye gouged out a patch of loose
rock, using a more cautious approach than his friend. Ten or twelve feet
across, the ore face was nearly equal that in height. While he worked the upper
right half, Tom worked the left, standing on a second ladder.

Tom laughed. “Quit fretting. I’ve crawled around
mine tunnels since I was a boy of ten. I know what I’m doing. Besides, we have
your famous luck o’ the Irish to protect us, don’t we?”

“Lucky, am I? After gophering the hills for two
years without finding a thing, I hardly think –” A loud cracking sound cut him
off.

“Tom!” he bellowed, seeing
the ceiling start to give way above the other man’s head.

Thanks, Cheryl, I'm glad you enjoyed reading about Baby Doe. I heard of her years ago but didn't know much of her story until I started researching this post. In the "old days" she was regarded as a home wrecker and a floosy, but in recent times she's looked upon more sympathetically, as a courageous pioneer woman who braved the rough mining camps and withstood the ugly things that were said about her. I admire her gutsiness.

Tanya, I love Silver Dollar's name too (That's what she went by.) But her life was also tragic. She tried her hand at writing without much success and degenerated into an alcoholic and likely a prostitute. She died horribly, scalded to death in a seedy part of Chicago. She was only in her mid thirties. Baby Doe oulived her and grieved for her until her own death.

I'm not too crazy about the age difference, either, but they evidently really loved each other, so that's all that counts.

I think one of the worst things that can happen to a person is have wealth and lose it. Those of us who stay poor, know how to deal with it. LOLI wonder what happened to their 2 daughters. They certainly had unique names.A very interesting article, Lyn.I enjoyed your excerpt, too.

Lyn--what a tragic story! It gave me goosebumps. She was truly a beauty. You can never predict love, but 24 years is way off. It's shameful he did not see that she would be taken care of when he died--he could have done better.To think moving from opulent surroundings to a one-room cabin behind something else is unthinkable. I'd go crazy, too.Thanks, Lyn, for this fascinating true love story.